


Hanging in the Balance

by azurefishnets



Series: Ghost Trick: Phantom Train (A Final Fantasy/Ghost Trick Crossover AU) [4]
Category: Final Fantasy VI, Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24941152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azurefishnets/pseuds/azurefishnets
Summary: As the unsealed Esper World rises to float overhead, with the Emperor, his loyal general Cabanela, and the Warring Triad at the heart of it, the royal family of Figaro and their allies must make the hard decision that the Cabanela they knew is no more. They have to stop the Empire before it destroys everything, at any cost.Set in the Final Fantasy VI / Ghost Trick AU. See theseries notesfor more information.
Series: Ghost Trick: Phantom Train (A Final Fantasy/Ghost Trick Crossover AU) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1196335
Kudos: 5





	1. Hard Truths

**Author's Note:**

> PREVIOUSLY: After reuniting the half-esper Sissel with his mother and the rest of the Espers, the Ladybird heads toward Narshe to begin preparations of war. Much to their surprise, they discover that Jowd, Kamila, and Cidgeon have beaten them to the embattled city, and picked up another friend, Bailey the moogle, on the way. With the royal family of Figaro together again, their attentions turn to plans for the future and a possible escape for their Esper comrades. After a disastrous meeting at the Sealed Gate, many espers attack Vector, then flee toward Thamasa. The Empire calls for a peace at a banquet, and although the Returners are suspicious, an agreement is made to send Generals Cabanela and Beauty, along with King Jowd, Queen Alma, Professor Cidgeon, and Sissel to negotiate with the espers. After successfully negotiating, they come back to the town, only to find that Beauty has begun her plans to annex it and Cabanela ready to show his true face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_The Book of the Dance_ , Canto I: The Rising Shadow, v. 15-16**   
>  _15 “And thuuus, the Warring Triad rose from Their otherworldly grave and ascended into the sky along with the land that had been Their seal, and Lord Cabanela, no one else like Him, rose with Them along with those who thought they had power over the Gods. 16Those whom He had once exalted above all others debated amongst themselves as to who would be the first to show Him honor, and the Royal Family of Figaro, as well as the Last Esper, did rise to stand at His side.”_

Alma ran for the _Ladybird_ , beyond grateful to see it in the cool light of the dawn’s rising. They had to follow Cabanela at any cost, retrieve what he’d taken before he grew bored with his new toy. Time was no friend to any of them and it was passing all too quickly.

There truly was nothing left of him in there. Cidgeon had said it. Jowd had said it. Alma and Lynne had argued it, unbelieving. She’d _seen_ him in Vector, months after Jowd and Cidgeon had seen him last. She’d seen him in Jidoor! At Figaro! How could the depth of feeling he’d projected to her on that stage be faked? How could the joy she’d seen from him at her least kindness, or the tenderness he’d shown in the depths be unreal? And yet, the scene played out before Alma’s unwilling mind in all its lurid tragedy, over and over.

The magicite shards with her had gasped and cried out for their friends and family, but there had been nothing any of them could do when he’d drawn the Espers in from their rescue without mercy and reduced them one by one to their magicite cores. They had all been held immobile by the same casual power as Cabanela had slaughtered General Beauty, then come over and caressed Jowd’s face, whispering to him as they strained and struggled against their magical restraints. It was only Amelie, who’d entered the town all unawares looking for Kamila, who’d distracted him long enough that the bindings on them all had failed.

Cidgeon had called to her, and she’d come running, knowing she’d stepped into something far beyond her. Cabanela’s head had whipped to follow her when he heard her name, his dark eyes watching her with a disturbing hatred. Alma pulled her in along with Sissel, protecting the unwary innocents from the madman in the town square as Cidgeon and Jowd stepped unhesitatingly in front of her, weapons at the ready. Even Sissel, normally so laconic, had yowled and puffed at him. For a moment Cabanela had looked stricken. Almost, Alma had hoped that he’d seen some kind of light of reason, had regained his judgment, but then he’d laughed wildly, like a howling at the heart of the world, as he drew his sword.

“This is the grubby little brat you piiick when you could have had me, baby? Doesn’t look muuuch like you or Jowd… well. Anyhoot, that’s fine. That’s juuust fine. Pooower and magic, nothing like them. This little princess has done nothing but come between us since the day she was born.” There was no time for confusion—how could he mistake Amelie for Kamila?—before he pointed and a stroke of lightning followed, knocking them all away. Alma lay cradling Amelie where she’d fallen, ears ringing and half-blinded, and could just see his boots, cleaned and polished to a shine even amongst the filth and gore he’d spattered, stop in front of her nose. He bent down and took her face in his bloodied hands.

“You had your choooice. You could have picked me, and you picked _her_? See the light, baby. Come see me soon, bring Jowd, and give me the Esper. That’s how you prooove your loyalties to me and the Empire, and eeearn back my love,” he’d crooned at her, then smeared his hand across Alma’s face and through her hair, leaving his mark upon her and Jowd both, written in Beauty’s blood. His own hands appeared clean and spotless once again. Before she could say anything, he’d plucked Amelie from Alma’s grasp and disappeared before the girl could even scream, leaving behind a shattered village, shattered people, shattered hopes.

They’d spent the night in frantic worry, trying to figure out how to get a message to Memry and Lynne back in the Empire while cleaning Thamasa up and consoling people who’d seen death stride into their quiet village. Beauty they buried in an unceremonial, unmarked grave outside of the city environs. She’d terrorized the people of the village while the King and Queen of Figaro were gone to the mountains, someone whispered to Alma. The queen gritted her teeth. The Empire had destroyed every bit of the promises they’d made; Beauty’s treachery was one more to add to the pile but she, at least, had reaped the consequences of her actions. Now Cabanela, Asbolus, and Sith needs must as well. She and Jowd had brought them here, to Thamasa, and reparations would be made. Figaro paid its debts if the Empire would not.

And now the _Ladybird_ was landing, like a miracle from the heavens. How had they known? Lynne and Kamila met them at the plank, wearing identical worried frowns. “Are you all safe?” Lynne asked, reaching out a hand to help them in. “The Empire sprung its trap almost as soon as you were gone. We were lucky to get away…good thing the Professsor and Memry knew the signs and got us out before it was too late. They make a good team.”

Alma nodded. She’d known, in some part of her, that it wasn’t safe to leave them behind, but had tried to believe in Cabanela’s honor, if not the Empire’s, for the sake of that _per sempre ognor_ he’d mouthed at her when she’d seen him last. There would be no more trust in that honor. He’d squandered that long since.

“There’s a lot to tell,” she said, finally, when Jowd, Cidgeon, and Sissel were on board. “We should go; there’s no time to waste.”

“Where are we heading?” Memry said as joined them. “Back to Figaro?”

“No.” Alma winced at the leaden sound of Jowd’s voice. They’d barely talked the night before, but the anger he’d been nursing was clear. How much of that, Alma wondered, was directed at her? She’d spent much time convincing him to go to the banquet, to put on the kingly persona to show that Figaro stood united. This was the consequence and the price of that misjudgment, she supposed. His anger was deserved. “We’re going back to Vector.”

“What?” “Why?” Lynne and Memry’s voices overlapped in identical outrage and worry.

“They’ll have our heads if we go back there,” Memry added, her voice a little too cheerful for the grim words. “We, er…kind of ensured it.”

“They have Amelie.” Alma’s voice was flat, refusing to be drawn into _that_ discussion, whatever it meant. “Or rather, Cabanela does. He thought she was Kamila, I think, but it happened so fast…”

Cidgeon said dully, “Kamila’s been going by Amelie’s name in Thamasa, as a protective measure. Everyone knows the princess of Figaro. No one knew Amelie.”

Kamila’s face drained, leaving her pale. She clung to Lynne’s hands, Alma saw with a pang. She never should have left her behind. She’d needed her mother and yet again Alma had been elsewhere.

“I don’t know what his plans are, but he made it clear we have to go to him to get her back. He wants Sissel.” She glanced at Kamila, trying to decide whether to say the whole of it, but Jowd finished it for her.

“He wants me. And Alma.” His face was drawn and stony. “He’s testing our loyalty.”

“Mama…” Suddenly Kamila threw herself at Alma, burying her head in Alma’s stomach. “That _can’t_ be Uncle Cabs. It just can’t. He’s got to have a... a double or something. An evil twin. Like in one of those dumb operas he likes so much.”

Cidgeon put his hand on her back in an attempt at awkward comfort. “Don’t torture yourself with impossible hopes, kiddo. We…” his voice failed. “We all wanted to believe that boy could be saved.”

Alma wrapped her arms around Kamila, wishing she could lift her up and cradle her like she would have when her daughter was small. “It’s him. I wish it wasn’t. But he made it clear.”

“I won’t believe it.” Kamila lifted her head, her eyes red and nose swollen. “I just won’t. But it doesn’t matter right now if _you_ believe it or not.” She whirled on Memry. “Get this ship in the air!”

“Whoa, yes, your Highness,” protested Memry. “Take it easy, it’s a long flight to Vector.”

“Yes, well, we have to get Amelie back. The Empire thinks she’s me and they’ll hurt her…” Kamila’s lips trembled, then firmed. “But I know she’ll escape! And we’ll rescue her and Uncle Cabs too if we have to.”

Jowd’s fists clenched, but he said nothing to Kamila, holding his anger in. He turned, moving stiffly, and walked into the hold. Alma cast a worried glance at him and noticed Cidgeon doing the same.

“I’ll talk to him,” she said. “Are you and Lovey all right?”

He reached a hand to his hair, bringing Lovey-Dove down in a tender grasp that belied his gruff words. “We’re tough old birds, she and I. We’ll make it.”

Alma patted Lovey too, giving her a tentative caress along her cheeks as the dove cooed. The folds around Cidgeon’s mouth were deeper than she’d ever seen them, and his hands trembled. He wasn’t all right, she knew, but there was no helping what ailed him. “Will you help Kamila get your niece moving? The more speed we can get out of the _Ladybird_ the better.”

He nodded, not looking up. “Don’t worry about it. Go talk to your fool in there.”

“We’re all fools right now,” Alma murmured, but turned away, missing the pained look he gave her as she stepped into the hold.


	2. Decisions

Jowd sat slumped on the sofa in the lowest hold, running the folds of his smock through his fingers. Alma had suspected she would find him there, although the smock was a bit startling. He’d recoiled when he’d discovered she had it, and more to find out who had worn it, even for a little while. She’d thought he’d gotten rid of it after that discussion. She almost wished he had.

“I figured you’d come in after me,” he said, not looking at her as she slipped into the room, then closed and locked the door behind her. She could feel the rumbling below her feet as the engines began to spin. “Don’t know it’s going to do much good right now.” Jowd looked up briefly as the _Ladybird_ lifted into the air, then back down to his contemplation. “I’m not worth much discussion.”

Alma sat across from him in one of the chairs, giving him space he seemed to need. “I’m sorry. I didn’t believe—”

He glanced up swiftly, his eyes full of complicated emotion. “ _You’re_ sorry? Why? I’m the one that was useless enough to let this happen, all of it. You’ve done nothing but pick up after me for five years. I didn’t deserve that…or you, and let’s face it, we both know I never did.” He laughed at the look on her face. “Ha! See, you can’t deny it either.”

“No, I just…” Alma clenched her fists in her lap. “Why aren’t you angry at me? If you’re not, I don’t understand why. This,” she waved her hands to attempt to encompass the whole mess, “…wasn’t your fault, ever. I wanted so much to believe in Cabanela’s empty promises and I dragged you into it too. We should have just gone back to Figaro. We should have…” she swallowed. “We should have gone home, and called it a stalemate for now.”

His face hardened at Cabanela’s name. “We know what he is now and you and I both know he can’t be allowed to go on doing as he pleases. He wants everything we love. Figaro’s no safer than anywhere else while he lives.”

Alma nodded, her eyes blurring. She’d known they’d need to have this discussion sooner rather than later but... “We…we owe it to Cidgeon and the man we thought he was,” she said, voice small. “Maybe we can at least—”

“There is no ‘at least,’ Alma,” Jowd said heavily. “He has to go down by my hands, or my time imprisoned with him means nothing. I was there for five years. Let me finish it, for you and for Figaro. I owe you that.” He took a deep breath, clenching his fists on the smock. “And then, I can be done.”

Alma’s eyes shot to his empty blue gaze, peering morosely at the myriad paint stains on the smock he clutched. What did _that_ mean? “Jowd. Jowd, look at me.” He blinked at her, his eyes hooded. “You are not going anywhere on your own, do you hear me? I can’t believe I have to tell you this—” _too,_ she almost finished the sentence, but pulled herself up short. “I didn’t lose every single member of my family in just a few days, rule Figaro alone for five years, and hold out against the Empire so I could find you again, just to let you go off and do this on your own for some ridiculous debt you think you owe. Where you go, I do as well, and you’re not done until I am too!”

“There’s my angry, righteous Alma,” he said, laughing drily. “Figaro deserves a Queen like you. Kamila deserves her mother. You say I should be angry at you, but everything you’ve done has been… noble. I don’t know what that looks like anymore. All I want—no. All I deserve is to give you both the best chance I can at a clean slate. A home to go back to.”

“So you plan to run, like your mother.” Alma’s lips thinned. “Close yourself off to your family and those who love and need you the most _when_ we need you the most.”

“What Ma did…no. At least she found some kind of peace, somewhere, for a time, but that path isn’t for me either.” Jowd sighed. “When I was captured and let myself be imprisoned for five years by someone I lo—” He stopped and cleared his throat. “My love can’t be trusted. It just leads to more mess.”

“So that’s it then,” Alma said. “You’re saying you don’t love us, that we’re just a messy complication?”

“I _do_ love you. You’re the cleanest, most beautiful part of this whole junkpile.” Jowd laughed bitterly. “And look what it brought you.”

“A home when mine was destroyed,” Alma said, her voice soft. “Family. A daughter. You.” Her throat closed. “Cabanela, too, for— for a time. And all of those things were good, once.”

He snorted. “And now?”

Alma moved from the chair and carefully, so carefully, sat by his side, waiting for his least twitch, but he was still as stone as she leaned against him and took his hand, freeing it of his grip on the smock. “I have my daughter back, and she is brilliant and beautiful and reminds me so much of her father every day. You brought her mentor, a man who is hurting as much as we are, for…some of the same reasons. He needs us and we need him. That’s your debt repaid, if you like. And Figaro’s waiting for us. Home, family. You’ve brought me so much, and… I still want you. I always have, and despite your best efforts to make me think the contrary, I always will.” 

“I told you, I don’t deserve—”

“I don’t _care_ what you think you deserve!” Alma burst out. “What do you _want?_ Is it truly a lonely death at the hands of someone we both trusted and, yes, loved? Because _he_ doesn’t deserve your sacrifice. Not again. We, here, on this airship, love you. _I_ love you. If you want to talk about deserving, at least you must see that Kamila and I deserve you more than he does.”

He began to answer, but was interrupted by a pounding at the door. “Mama! Papa! Come out, quick, you have to see this!”

Jowd took his hand from hers and strode to the door, throwing it open. Kamila stood outside, her eyes big and frightened. “You have to come up on deck. Something’s happening near the Esper Caves.”

Jowd nodded and headed to the deck without another word, Alma and Kamila hard on his heels. They’d barely been in the air for twenty minutes. If something was happening that far south that was visible from here, it had to be big.

Cidgeon stood on the deck, Lovey fluttering around him, his mouth wide open. The sight of his shock was unnerving enough, but Lynne’s taut, frightened stillness, Missile clutched in her arms, was even more so. The little warrior cowered, tail still and ears flat to his head. As Alma, Jowd, and Kamila burst back out of the hold, the sheer silence in the air was overwhelming. No gulls cried, and even the ocean’s soft _shooshhh_ far beneath seemed muted, the waters unnaturally still. The former brilliance of the blue dawn was hazed, as if a great quantity of dust had been kicked up somewhere; a dark cloud hovered on the horizon, but it rose and rose, like no storm Alma had ever seen, going higher and higher until it floated well free of the ocean below.

The stillness was broken as Lynne pointed to the water underneath the ship and said, “Look!” just as it reversed direction into an enormous swell of water heading toward the Imperial continent, a wave that must have been as tall as the castle in Figaro and getting taller every moment.

At the same time, Memry screamed, “Hold on!” as turbulence battered the ship, knocking them into each other. Sissel yowled, claws ripping into the wood of the deck, beyond human speech, as the magicite with them began to scream in unison.

_“No!”_

_“so much pain…”_

_“the world…help us…”_

Alma knelt carefully next to Sissel, still unsteady as the ship rocked in the chaos around them. That had been some kind of shockwave, displaced air shooting past them to fill some void left by something large moving too fast for the air to keep up. Sissel, low to the deck, didn’t seem to have noticed as he wobbled between shapes, the human fighting for primacy with the cat. Both moaned in pain, eyes dilated far beyond normal. He looked up, tail lashing, and panted for breath even as he said in a voice that was eerily even, “The world’s in so much pain. Can’t you feel it?”

“What’s happening?” Kamila cried, holding hard on to the railings and leaning as far out to see as she could. “What is that?”

Jowd had steadied himself as he joined her at the railing and was peering hard at the massive blot in the sky. Absently, he put his hand on Kamila’s shoulder, restraining her as she leaned a little too far forward. “I think it’s that area where the caves were, but it’s…”

“Isn’t it upside down?” Cidgeon joined them at the railing too. “I recognize some of those mountains. And look, there’s that triangular piece of land you couldn’t get to without going through the caves.”

“But…that area was half the continent!” Lynne burst out. “How is that possible?”

 _“It has to be magic, Miss Lynne!”_ Missile cried. “ _Even I know that!”_

Jowd’s eyes met Alma’s and Cidgeon’s above Kamila’s head. They all knew who was up on that landmass. He had to be; there was no one else with the sheer audacity.

“The unstoppable man brings the mountains with him,” Jowd drily said at last. “I suppose that means we have some decisions to make.”


	3. Preparations

The turbulence in the air had slowly stilled and the airship flew onward, but the discussion in the hold raged far into the evening as the group tried to make a plan to find Cabanela.

“I’m going after him.” Jowd clenched his fists in nervous reflex. “We’re finishing this.”

“Not without me, you’re not,” Alma said, her voice brooking no denial as she drew herself up. “This is for both of us.”

“Well, I’m going too,” Kamila said, looking up from the toolbox she had spread out in front of her as she tinkered with her crossbow. “He—the Empire has my friend, and it’s because they thought she was me. I’m going to find her.”

“Absolutely not.” “Now look here—” Alma and Jowd’s immediate protests were quelled as Kamila stood to her fullest height and gave them her most royal look. Alma recognized it from her own mother and sister, a heretofore unsuspected gift of heredity that made her heart ache even as she took pride in the woman her daughter was becoming.

“I’m going. If you won’t take me I’ll find a way to go on my own. I bet Memry has some spare parts I could use to make a wing suit—”

“Hey, now, wait, wait, hold on a minute,” sputtered Memry, suddenly drawn in. “The _Ladybird_ ’s got what she needs and no more. You keep your hands to yourself.”

“You won’t have to worry about it if Mama and Papa see reason quickly,” Kamila smiled gently, her voice sweet yet hard as iron. “But I’m going. Amelie needs me…she’s been looking for me all this time and now I have to help her. And…” her voice got smaller. “I have to see. I have to.”

Memry growled in frustration and turned to the others. “As for the rest of you! We don’t go anywhere until I’m sure she can take the trip. Did you see how high that thing went? The Ladybird’s not geared for those kinds of altitude shifts. I get it, we have to go, but I’m gonna need help getting her ready, and then you’ll need someone to get you out if it goes bad. I’d better stay and fly. Bailey’s doing fine on the basics but I don’t trust him not to panic and start dancing when it gets rough.”

Cidgeon looked out at the darkness, looking drawn and older than they’d ever seen him. “It was hard enough traipsing around in those caves when they were right-side-up. Not as young as I used to be.” He was quiet for a moment. “And the boy…no. I can’t help with Cabanela now. Best if I stay with the ship, help Memry keep it going.” He looked at Jowd, and whatever he saw made him shake his head. “Don’t be an idiot, boy. Finish it the way you know it needs to be done, but keep yourself and your family safe first.”

“Well, I’m definitely going,” proclaimed Lynne. “I can’t stop you two but I’m your guard! And so is Missile! You need me with you.”

 _“Yeah! And you’re going too, right Sissel?”_ Missile wriggled until Lynne let him down and he ran to Sissel’s side.

Sissel, ears still tending to want to flatten and his tail to bush, was busily washing himself, paws curving over his ears and tail lashing in fitful dismay. _“I’ll go…I guess…if it helps me understand why I’m here in the first place.”_ Missile gave him a big lick and Sissel turned his back on him, continuing to composure-wash in irritable silence. He’d said nothing more about the pain he’d felt on deck, but they could all see the toll it had taken on the half-Esper.

Cait Sissel, in her now-accustomed place upon his collar, said dreamily, “ _He shall create a peace in our time… the Three shall gleam with judgment’s light…”_

Lynne gave her an uneasy glance. “I thought she was doing better... you know, for being a hunk of rock.”

“ _She was,”_ Ramuh said, his deep voice rumbling. “ _But the Warring Triad are up there and we can all feel Them crying out. The land around them sings with their pain. Even the air trembles with it, even now.”_

“What’s the Warring Triad?” Lynne asked. “They sound…bad.”

 _“They were our masters and our Gods, once,”_ Siren said. _“Power far beyond compare, and They allowed our own paltry powers to be abused for Their wars far beyond reason, until humans and Espers both were nearly destroyed.”_

 _“And so, when They saw the harm They had done to us, They chose to sequester themselves and lock their powers away_ ,” added Shiva _, “but They live still, harnessed in stone. ‘_ Never must we be woken _,’ They said to us, and so we have guarded their rest with our lives… until now. Now there are none left to guard.”_

 _“It was a sacred charge from our Goddesses,”_ Ramuh said, his voice low. _“We the Elders heard it personally, and we have failed.”_

“The War of the Magi,” Memry said, comprehension dawning. “I always thought those were just old Thamasan fairytales.”

“Hmph, if you’d stayed in town long enough to learn, you’d know otherwise,” Cidgeon grumped.

“I don’t think you’re one to talk, uncle,” Memry retorted. “ _How_ long did you live in the Empire again?”

“Too long.” Cidgeon scowled. “It’s neither here nor there. How long until we get back to the Vector area?”

“Still a little way,” Kamila said, looking at the charts on the wall. “Four hours maybe? We’ve been pushing the _Ladybird_ pretty hard but it’s a long trip even by air from Thamasa to Vector.”

As if to punctuate her words, the airship shuddered as something hit it with a thud. The _Ladybird_ began to yaw, everyone in the room struggling to keep their feet. More thuds followed and Memry ran for the deck, followed by the rest.

Bailey, who’d been left to fly the ship in its quiet flight through the darkened skies over the ocean, had begun to dance, his own specialized magic charging the air with his fright until it crackled with tension and magic. “Help! Me!” he panted, gesturing Memry over. “I! can’t stop! until! they’re all gone!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know how it works by now!” Memry said, taking the wheel. “What’s out there? What hit us?”

“I don’t know! It was! Dark! But I know! They’re still here!”

Memry sighed in frustration, but his anxiety was infectious. She scanned the skies, searching for signs of their attacker. In the distance, a distant rattle and a droning sound, paired with a flash, drew her gaze. “There!”

A small aircraft flew past, followed closely by another and yet another.

“The Imperial Air Force…” Kamila breathed, joining Memry at the wheel. “I’d heard rumors they’d finally gotten off the ground.”

“Yeah, well, these guys have no reason to love us,” Memry said, her voice bitterly amused. “They must be scouting ahead for the rest.”

Lynne looked up, around the bulk of the gas bag. “Um… no, they’re guarding the floating…thing…” She pointed at the land, floating serene far above them.

“They can’t be! We’re still a long way from Vector!” Memry said. “How can it be moving that fast?”

“Magic…” Lynne shrugged as Memry gave her a sour look. “That’s all I got for you.”

“Well, we’re not nearly ready,” Memry growled, wrestling with the recalcitrant wheel as more of the aircraft rose around them and spat bullets at the bag and gondola.

“Too bad, because they’re coming!” Kamila cried, shoving bolts into the stock of her crossbow. “ _Get_ ready!”

More aircraft, marked in red and yellow, zoomed past, the bright lines of their magitek-fueled lasers burning through the night as they spat gunfire at them.

Kamila sighted along her crossbow stock and precisely placed a hail of bolts into one moving a little too slowly across her line of sight. “We’re gonna have to fight them off!”

Memry aimed and fired too, yelling at Bailey to do a different dance, one that would hurt the enemy instead of needlessly frightening everyone on the ship. He swung after a second into one with a more rollicking beat, one that seemed to cheer everyone, and Memry and Kamila found their accuracy improved as they picked them off, but the crafts kept coming.

“We have to go! Quick!” Lynne panted, having neatly dispatched one that had buzzed a little too close to the deck with Missile’s help. “We can come back when we’re a little more—”

“Wait,” Kamila said, looking thoughtfully at the landmass above as she moved into an area with a little more cover. “If we go, they’ll just be ready for us when we come back. At least, if we go now…”

“We’ll have the element of surprise!” Lynne finished her sentence. “Memry, can we get above them?”

“I already _said_ —” Memry stopped, thought, and scowled with her conclusions. “Yeah. I’ll need Uncle Cidgeon’s help at the very least. And probably Bailey’s. You’ve got something that can help somehow, right? Something to help with speed would be best.”

Bailey, still dancing, gave her a frantic nod and switched to something with a different beat still, waving his arms and moving back and forth across the deck with astonishing speed. The airship sped up to match, weaving through waves of aircraft that shot lasers and were gone before they could further attack.

Alma and Jowd, fighting back to back near the ship’s stern, took out another sally by the IAF’s planes, and Alma said, “The professor’s already down there in the engine room. But we haven’t finished planning! We can’t _all_ go; someone has to guard the ship.”

Jowd added, “Kamila could help with the engines—”

“I already told you I’m going, Papa.” Kamila scowled at them. “And I think Sissy needs to go too. If there are Espers left up there, we may need him to talk to them.”

Alma murmured to Jowd, “She’s right about that. And…I don’t want us to be separated again.”

Jowd scrubbed a hand through his hair, then barked out a laugh. “Fine. A fun day out for all the family it is.”

“Thanks, Papa!” Kamila smiled, and took down another aircraft. “You won’t regret it!”

“But, Lynne,” Alma said, her voice brooking no dissent, “you and Missile will have to stay.”

“What! No way!” Lynne shook her head, her hair flying in the rushing wind. “I’m supposed to protect the Royal Family! Where you go, I do too!”

“And you will be protecting us,” Alma assured her. “After all, the IAF won’t just go away because we’re not here, but I imagine we’ll have to jump down to the continent. If we can’t land, you’ll have to guard the _Ladybird_ so we have somewhere to come back to.” She came closer, taking advantage of the pause in the attacks, and took Lynne by the shoulders. “I know I can trust you.”

“But… but…” Lynne looked stricken. “I wanted to explore…” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Not the time, I know, I know. But I don’t like it!”

“We all trust you to come save us if we need it!” Kamila said, and threw her arms around Lynne in a hug, gathering her surprised mother in too. “Right, Missile?”

 _“Right, Miss Kamila! I’ll make a path to you no matter what!”_ Missile barked, tail waving. _“If you need us just call my name… MISSILE!”_

“Sorry for taking the treasure in advance,” Jowd smirked, his voice dry. “We’ll bring you back a souvenir.”

“It had better be something super cool.” Lynne gave him a returning smirk and a nod over Kamila’s head. “Like a Relic or a magic weapon or something. Or a badge. I’ll be waiting!”

“We’ll see what we can do,” Alma said, and shook her head as she drew back and looked over at Memry’s station at the wheel. “Take us up then, Memry, and let’s hope this isn’t as bad an idea as it sounds. Lynne, you, Bailey, and Missile protect the deck while we figure out how to divide the magicite and get ready to make this leap.”


End file.
